Canada knew his brother was an idiot; he was the kind of person to skate down the stairs using an ironing board. And yes, he caught his brother doing the said act. But throughout all of his lifetime, which was quite long mind you, he had never seen America do something so recklessly idiotic that he managed to hurt himself that badly.

It was a warm, summer's night, and the two brothers were having a small celebration for Canada's birthday. Along with the two nations, were England and France, who each brought their own gifts, and food. Praising France's cooking and tossing England's a nervous-looking smile, Alfred cracked open a cold beer, downing it, shouting "Let's get this party started!" With everyone in high spirits, a laughter arose, and the others joined in.

As the party progressed, so did the surroundings. The setting sun had left the sky, leaving a dark, midnight blue in its place. The moon was bright, a Cheshire smile looking down below, stars twinkling down below. The group of nations sat at the table, eating the raspberry mousse cake France had made, America and England finding the most basic of movements utterly hilarious. Of course, the two decided that the best course of action for the night was to challenge each other to a drinking competition.

If there was one thing America was thankful for, it was that he didn't inherit England's inability to hold down a drink. He dominated the challenge, winning against England, whooping. Feeling celebratory, he said that drinks were on him, to which Canada wryly mentioned that the beers were already purchased. But at the cheerful grin on America's face, Canada took the beer out of his brother's outstretched hand, and partook in the consumption of alcohol.

The party was nearing to an end when Alfred pulled out what looked like tiny rockets on sticks out of his pockets. Focusing his brain, Canada slowly came to the realization that these were indeed fireworks. A smile came onto his face, his inhibitions lost to the alcohol in his blood, Canada grabbed a box of matches, as America clumsily ushered the other two outside.

The setting off of the fireworks started off fine. The first few went up smoothly, red and white sparks filling up the night sky, a multitude of crackles resonating throughout the air. And then, England grabbed another firework. He lit the end of it, only for it to not go off.

"'Guess it's a faulty one, then" Canada spoke, reaching out to toss the firework aside, when another hand grabbed it first. America held the firework up like a trophy, before reaching for another match.

"That's a faulty one, Alfred!" Canada spoke out, alarmed. "You know those can explode in your face if you try to relight them!"

"Ahh... bu...but Iggy is drunkkkkk... he prob... probably didn't light it good..."

"Alfred, you're drunk too! Give me the fire-"

America pulled away, lighting the match and then the firework, held up to his face, as if to mock Canada. And then, with a loud bang, the firework exploded exploded in his face.

A loud shrieking noise followed, as the blond rolled around on the ground, clutching at his face. France and Canada rushed over to the nation, England stumbling over. France roughly pulled America's hands away from his face, Canada holding him down, to see how bad the damage was. The northern nation gasped; there was blood running down America's face. The blast from the firework broke his glasses, which flew into the vicinity of his eyes.

This was bad.

The other nations rushed America inside to the bathroom, to carefully pick out the pieces of glass, and to wash the face carefully. Now that all the blood was out of the way, it was clear that a good amount of skin was blown away, leaving a raw looking redness in its place.

Although the damage was a lot better than what it could have been. Alfred's eyes were still intact, although they would have to be bandaged for at least a few days to let them heal. There hopefully won't even be much scarring, and Alfred should be back to his usual self within a week.

Bandaging his face up, and hefting him to the couch, Canada sighed. This would be a journey, wouldn't it...

"Eugh..."

Canada looked up from the book he was reading, towards the shifting body next to him.

"Wha...what happened? Why's it so dark, and why does my face hurt...?"

Canada sighed. "We were celebrating last night, when you tried to relight a faulty firework. It blew up in your face."

"Oh...oh yeah, I remember..." Alfred sat up, and leaned against the back of the couch. Scratching the back of his head, a deep frown formed on his face. "Mattie, do you think that... that I've gone blind...?"

"Well, your eyes are bandaged..."

"I know that. But, I mean, once the bandages come off, will I be able to see...?"

"Well, at first, everything might look blurry and too bright, but... yeah, you should be able to. We're nations, after all. You know how our healing works."

Alfred visibly relaxed, relieved at the news. "I'm gonna have to keep these on for some time though, right?" At the affirmative sound Matthew made, Alfred let out a loud groan.

Hope all of you enjoy!

-potato